Black Bird, Green Arrow
by wtchcool
Summary: "Peter Fleming, you have failed this city." Someone has to learn a lesson. Eventual Quiver (Quentin/Oliver) and Pence (Peter/Vince). Crossover, but it is not necessary to have seen both shows. R&R.
1. Chapter 1: Send Me On My Way

"Black Bird; Green Arrow"

By: Wtchcool

Disclaimer: If I owned "Arrow" and "The Cape," Quiver and Pence would be canon.

_Chapter One: Send Me on My Way_

_It was night and the billionaire was alone in the parking lot—or so he thought. A hooded figure above him caught his attention and it wasn't the one he was accustomed to seeing._

_"Peter Fleming, you have failed this city_._"_

_ An arrow was fitted to a bow and aimed._

~QL~

**PREVIOUSLY:**

_Palm City, Franklin_

"Vince, could you come inside for a minute?" Dana asked. Her ex-husband, Vince Faraday, had just dropped off their twelve-year-old son, Trip.

"Sure," the sandy haired man acquiesced, following her inside.

The Faradays had been happily married until one night a couple of years ago. Vince, a sergeant in the police force at the time, had received a tip from the blogger known as Orwell. Orwell had sent him to the train yards, where illegal explosives were being smuggled into the city on behalf of the masked villain calling himself Chess.

Vince was ambushed by Chess, who revealed his secret identity to be Peter Fleming, the CEO of ARK Corporation. Unfortunately for Vince, the city had just delegated the Palm City Police Department's duties to ARK Corporation. Fleming had one of his men staple Chess' mask onto Faraday's head, and then had his forces chase the last honest cop through the city on live television.

The chase had ended when Vince was seemingly blown up in an explosion. In reality, he'd been safely tucked away in a tunnel underneath the exploding truck.

With Fleming framing him for Chess' crimes, Faraday had allowed everyone to believe he was dead. He'd continued to do so until Fleming had had a change of heart and publicly declared that Vince had been innocent.*

Vince had decided it was then safe to announce to the world that he had survived the explosion. He had thought that he would then be able to go home to his old life.

He'd been wrong. In his absence, his wife had gotten over the loss of her husband and fallen in love with Jack Kirchner (a law school professor). Shortly after Vince's return, Dana had filed for divorce.

Now Vince wondered what was up.

"What is it?" he asked, after she had him take a seat.

"Vince, Jack's been offered a job in Starling City. He's thinking of taking it." She bit her lip. "If he does, well, he asked me to go with him."

"What?"

"I've scheduled an interview with Starling City's Legal Aid Office. If I get the job, I'll…"

"You'll take Trip away from me? Dana, we agreed to joint custody! How would I see Trip if he's—"

"Starling City isn't that far from Palm City," she interrupted him. "It's in the same state. You could commute!"

"Do you know how many hours that would take?" Vince demanded.

"Well, what if you moved, too?"

"What?"

"Vince, I know you've been having trouble finding a job since…what happened. And I know you'd rather die than work for ARK Corporation. Starling City's police force hasn't been privatized. I'll bet that they would hire you."

Vince stared at her. She did have a point. He could be a police officer again. And he wouldn't have to worry about being separated from his son. But the thought of leaving Palm City, which had always been his home… how could he?

Even when he'd been a fugitive, he'd refused to leave. He'd told his friend Max Malini that he wouldn't let his son think he was a coward that ran from his problems. He had stayed and become Palm City's vigilante, the Cape. But he'd done that to stay near Trip.

His former partner, Orwell, had recently moved to Starling City herself. After Vince's name had been cleared, she'd decided to reconcile with her father. To the Cape's great surprise, her father was none other than Peter Fleming.

Fleming had welcomed his long-lost daughter, Jamie, back with open arms. (It helped that he had no clue that she had been the blogger denouncing him at every turn.) He'd wasted no time in putting her in charge of ARK Corporation's Starling City offices.

So Orwell had left her friend behind. He had missed her, but not nearly as much as he would miss his son if Dana took him away. He could, he supposed, take her to court to try to stop her from moving, but he doubted he'd fare well against the attorney. Most people in Palm City still seemed to suspect him of being Chess, despite all the evidence to the contrary.

By the time he left Dana's, he'd decided to send the Starling City Police Department his résumé.

~PF~

_Starling City_

"Dad! Hi!" Jamie greeted her father at the restaurant.

"Great to see you, Jamie," he embraced her. Then he nodded to the maître d' and they were seated promptly. "You said you had news?" Peter asked, noticing the additional places at the table.

"I did. I've been seeing someone and I want you to meet him."

"Sounds serious," Peter commented, immensely pleased that his daughter was involving him in her life.

"Sorry I'm late, honey." The new arrival kissed Jamie briefly on the lips before turning to Peter, whose mouth was wide open. "This must be your father."

"Dad, I'd like to introduce you to—"

"Faraday and I have met," Peter said, regaining his composure.

"No, you're thinking of my brother, Vince. I'm Ian," the look-a-like shook Fleming's hand.

"I was unaware Faraday had a twin."

"I knew Vince wouldn't talk about me. You'd think he was ashamed of me or something."

"Ian spent a few years in Bali," Jamie added. "He hasn't seen his brother in years."

"Oh, a lengthy separation from family; it sounds like we have something in common. Tell me how you two met."

~PF~

"You must hate me," Peter addressed Ian later that evening, while Jamie was in the bathroom. "For what I did to your brother," he added.

"No more than Jamie does," Ian said, shrugging. At Fleming's perplexed look, he continued. "Didn't you know? Jamie said she was friends with Vince."

"No, I didn't know," the Brit answered. "I don't suppose she said how she'd known—"

"I'm back," Jamie announced, before resuming her seat. "You weren't talking about me while I was gone, were you?"

"I was just telling your father about how we've decided to let bygones be bygones. After all, it's not like he's the jerk that set up my brother."

An awkward silence ensued in which neither Fleming corrected Ian. Peter's decision to clear Faraday's name had not been accompanied by a desire to tell the complete truth. He was quite fond of not being in prison.

Jamie was one of the few people that knew that it hadn't been Marty Voyt who had framed Vince that night, but as long as her father was trying to turn over a new leaf, she wouldn't have to remain his adversary.

~OQ~

In his hideout underneath the future nightclub, Oliver Queen and his bodyguard/confidante John Diggle watched the news.

Oliver had once lived with a devil-may-care attitude. That had stopped five years ago when he'd boarded the _Queen's Gambit_ with his girlfriend's sister** and his father. The boat had gone down, but he and his father had made it into the lifeboat.

He hadn't expected his father to commit suicide before his eyes.

Before Robert Queen shot himself, he'd handed his son a notebook filled with names, warning Oliver that the people in the book were poisoning Starling City.

After Oliver had been rescued from the island he'd been shipwrecked on, he'd taken it upon himself to take care of all of the people on the list. As the vigilante the Hood, he was making pretty good progress towards that goal—with some help from Diggle.

"So Peter Fleming's in town," Diggle observed as they watched the newscast. "Wonder whether he's here to check on his daughter or on his business."

"Either way, he's going to wish he hadn't made the trip," Oliver replied. "He's on the list."

***For why Peter had the change of heart, see "Putting Chess in Check," the prequel to this.**

****In retrospect, he understood that he'd been a major jackass in seeing Sara Lance behind Laurel's back. **

**Author's Note: I'm doing my best to make sure that members of only one of the fandoms aren't confused. If you're lost, let me know.**

**This is technically a crossover with "Eat, Pray, Love," as Ian is from that film. If you haven't seen the movie, you don't have to, but you're missing out.**

**The chapter title is from Rusted Root's song. (Speaking of songs, have you checked out the Quiver MV?)**

**If you want to read more, let me know.**

**Incidentally, I can't believe they barely included Quentin in tonight's episode! I promise he will feature in this story. **


	2. Ch 2: The Faces, the Names, & the Trends

_Chapter Two: The Faces, the Names, and the Trends_

"Peter Fleming is on the list," Diggle repeated. "Is there any member of the one percent that isn't on there?" he joked. Sometimes it did seem as though the list was composed of every billionaire outside the Queen family, with maybe a couple of 'average Joes' thrown in for accent. "Don't answer that," he added before Oliver could speak.

"I think I've got a pretty good idea why he's on the list," Oliver went over to the computer and pulled up Orwell's blog. The symbol of the all-seeing eye swirled on a red background before duplicating itself; the twin eyes settled at the top of the page above the entries. "Take a look at this. Orwell suspects him of everything from trying to kill Palm City's Secretary of Prisons to illegally arresting and detaining citizens. _And_ he's got evidence that Fleming's involved with organized crime."

"But nothing's stuck to him so far," Diggle observed.

"It's hard to make things stick to the person in charge of local law enforcement. Fleming made a show of cleaning up his corporation, supposedly rooting out the bad apples, but his hands weren't clean," Oliver emphasized his point by tapping the notebook containing the list. Fleming's name was on there; that was all he really needed to know. "It seems a safe bet that the corruption spread to ARK's Starling City offices."

"Did you notice that Orwell hasn't updated his blog in over a year?" Diggle asked. "Do you suppose Fleming got to him?"

"I don't know, but I'd like to find out."

~VF~

The following morning, Jamie Fleming was checking her e-mail on her office computer when she noticed she had a message from Vince Faraday. She clicked on it.

_I have a surprise for you._

She started to type a reply when her door opened, revealing a familiar looking six foot figure.

"Surprise!" Vince called.

Jamie blinked.

"Vince, is that you?" she asked, standing up from her desk to greet him. He looked exactly like Ian, and yet the two were so different. Since she'd known Vince, he'd always been carrying the weight of the world—or at least Palm City—on his shoulders. She didn't like to dwell on the role she had played in putting that burden there. Ian, on the other hand, was so carefree, so full of life that it was contagious.

"Who else would it be?" he asked.

"Well…" _your identical twin_. "What are you doing in Starling City?" the brunette asked. Vince explained to her Dana's intention to move and take Trip with her.

"So I've scheduled an interview with the Starling City P.D. and as long as I'm here, I thought I'd look up my favorite partner. You seem to be doing well here," he gestured around her large office with the fantastic view (and tried to ignore the similarities it shared with her father's office).

"I am. You know, since I've come here, for the first time I've seen the potential ARK has to do some real good for society. I think I can make a difference without hiding behind a blog. I feel different, like I'm finally…" she searched for the word.

"You're happy," Vince supplied.

"Exactly," she beamed.

"Well, I'm happy for you, Orwell."

"You can call me Jamie, Vince," she informed him, her smile dimming.

"Sorry, force of habit." Orwell had been the only name he'd had for her until she'd decided to make peace with her father. "You know, I have to say, I thought I'd have more trouble getting in to see you at your office, but I was shown right on up. It was almost like security recognized me," Vince said, puzzled.

"Is that so?" Jamie asked. Security had presumably not been informed that her boyfriend had an identical twin, an oversight on her part. Not that she would've kept Vince out, but…

"What's going on, Orwell?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean you've got that look on your face that says you're hiding something from me. I should know it because you wore it the entire time we were partners."

"Vince—"

"No, I get it. You didn't want me to associate you with your father and considering your father is Chess—"

"Vince!" she hissed.

"What? Don't tell me someone's spying on Orwell?"

"I'm not Orwell anymore. I'm through with that."

"Are you also through with keeping secrets?" he asked.

"Fine," she sighed. Then she mumbled something under her breath.

"Sorry, I couldn't make that out," Vince raised a hand to his ear.

"I said 'I'm dating your brother,'" she repeated.

Vince waited a beat, to see if she was having him on. Then he realized she was serious. He ran a hand through his sandy curls.

"Wow, I…I didn't even know Ian was in Starling, let alone that you and he," _would hit it off—_ "had met. Have you been dating long?" Since when did Ian date for that matter? Last time Vince checked, his brother was a nymphomaniac.

"Long enough for me to have introduced him to my father; you do know about him being in town?"

"I heard," he grimaced. "I'm hoping to be able to avoid him."

"Surely dinner last night didn't go that badly, Faraday?"

The sound of that voice made Vince tense even as he turned to face the source of it. Sure enough, Peter Fleming stood in the doorway to the office: black haired, Vince's height, but eyes a lighter shade of blue, ears that were considerably too big for his face and a suit that probably cost more than Vince's last salary.

Faraday's heart started beating faster at the sight of that bastard who had thrown his life into chaos—the same man he'd rescued from a would-be assassin. Why, _why_ had he saved Fleming from Dice? The blonde savant might have been crazy, but not because she'd believed the billionaire deserved to die.

"I hate to interrupt the happy couple," Peter began.

"You weren't—we're not—Dad, this is _Vince_," Jamie hastened to set her father straight.

Was Vince imagining it, or did the older man grow paler?

"I see."

"Don't worry, Chess. I was just leaving."

The younger man left before Peter could come up with a response. Faraday was a loose end. When he'd cleared the man's name, he'd believed the former cop was dead. But here he was, walking around, knowing Peter's secret… Well, Faraday wasn't the first. He'd just have to figure out a way to neutralize that threat.

~QL~

"Now you understand, Mr. Faraday, that this is just a preliminary interview. The higher ups will decide whether or not you get called back," Detective Lance explained as Vince took a seat opposite him.

"I understand," Vince nodded. He'd changed into a suit between leaving the ARK building and coming down to the police precinct.

"Did you bring a copy of your résumé?" Quentin asked.

Vince had and handed the piece of paper over for Lance to inspect.

"Not bad. You had a fairly impressive record at the Palm City Police Department, up until, well, the allegations against you weren't exactly kept secret."

"I'm aware of that, Detective, but as I'm sure you're aware, they were proven false. It's not entirely unheard of for an innocent man to be wrongly accused—"

Lance grunted, remembering the night he'd removed Oliver Queen's ankle bracelet. He'd had probable cause to arrest Queen.

"What's your stance on vigilantes?"

"Pardon?" Vince asked.

"You may have heard we've had a bit of a vigilante problem in this city lately. This Hood character, goes around shooting people with a bow and arrow, seems to think he's helping society by breaking laws on a regular basis. He's being credited with getting some white collar criminals to turn themselves in or try to make restitution for their deeds.

"So what's your stance on a guy that dresses up in tights, hides his face and flaunts the law?"

Vince blinked. Lance wasn't exactly hiding his feelings on the subject. It was clear what he'd have to say if he wanted a shot at this job. The difficulty was that his alter ego had a few things in common with the Hood.

He hadn't stopped to think about what he would do if he moved to Starling City—specifically, about whether the Cape would retire. If he considered the reasons why he'd donned the costume in the first place:

-To try to clear his name: That had been taken care of. He hadn't figured out what ulterior motive Fleming had in helping him, but regardless, his reputation was on the mend.

-To bring down Fleming: That remained unfinished. He could hardly work on that from another city.

-And finally, he'd worn the costume to reunite with his son, which was coincidentally why he was here, in this interview.

"Detective Lance, I can assure you that I wouldn't let anyone stop me from doing my sworn duty as a cop. Two years ago, I nearly died for the offense of refusing to take bribes to look the other way. I took pride in my name, and now that I have it back, I'm not going to do anything to jeopardize it."

Lance grinned.

"Before I let you go, do you have any questions for me?"

**Author's Note: It took me three search engines to locate one buddy icon for "The Cape." That's just sad. If anyone finds/creates more, please give me a heads-up.**

**Chapter title is from Bowling for Soup's "High School Never Ends."**

**Thanks to Orwell and IronAmerica for reviewing! And thanks to those who have added it to your lists of favorites/follows!**


	3. Chapter 3: Give Up the Fight

_Chapter Three: Give Up the Fight_

"Dad, if I could offer you a little advice? If you want to date the guy, don't act like you're going to kill him."

Peter nearly choked on his drink. He was taking Jamie out for a lunch. He cleared his throat and looked across the table at his daughter.

"Sweetheart, I'm afraid I don't understand what you're getting at."

"Dad, I'm talking about Vince. First, I saw the way you looked at his twin last night before you knew who he was. And then today…"

"I was merely caught off guard. I mean, the man blames me for that nasty business of him nearly getting killed, rightly, of course," he added. "But I think you must be imagining things if you think that I…" he trailed off.

"Whatever you say," Jamie said skeptically. "Just don't try to have him killed," _again_, she added silently, remembering the assassins her father had previously used.

~VF~

It was stupid, Vince knew, to don the costume and go traipsing across the rooftops of Starling City when his career prospects hinged on his supposed anti-vigilante attitude. Doubly stupid, considering the tales of Starling's own vigilante, who might not be interested in making a newcomer feel welcome. But he couldn't help himself.

The one constant he'd held onto while his life had gone through one upheaval after another was that _Peter Fleming could not be trusted_. Once upon a time, Vince had relied on Orwell to keep an eye on the villain and let him know what nefarious schemes he was up to. And no wonder she hadn't told him the truth; if he had known, would he have trusted her to report on her father?

It was a moot point now, as she'd evidently taken it into her head to forgive her father his trespasses. He didn't have her knack for hacking, or else he'd have changed her old blog to read: 'Orwell is NOT Watching.'

Yes, he was bitter about it.

Why wouldn't he be? Orwell had just as much a hand in getting him 'killed' as her father had, when you came down to it. He'd never held it against her because she had always been on his side, not her father's. Now that he'd lost her as an ally against Chess… He'd just have to carry on his crusade without his partner.

And so he leaped onto another roof, still on the lookout for his enemy, more eager than he'd like to admit for a confrontation.

The one he got that night wasn't what he'd had in mind.

~PF~

It had rained briefly during the afternoon. The night sky was clear, but puddles had remained. The billionaire trying to navigate between them was alone in the hotel parking lot—or so he thought. A hooded figure above Peter caught his attention and it wasn't the one he was accustomed to seeing. The vigilante dropped to the ground a few yards in front of him before speaking.

"Peter Fleming, you have failed this city."

An arrow was fitted to a bow and aimed.

Before it could be released, a midnight blue cape wrapped around the bow and plucked it out of gloved hands, leaving both the Hood and his target temporarily stunned.

"You must be the Hood," the Cape rasped.

"Who are you—" Queen started to ask, before he was interrupted.

"Did you just save my life, _again_?" Fleming called out.

"You're welcome," the masked man spat. "Don't rub it in." He wasn't entirely sure why he was doing this. He no longer needed to keep the villain alive in order to clear his name. It must be that he knew Jamie would want her father alive, he told himself. Besides which—

"What makes you think you have the right to play judge, jury and executioner?" the Palm City vigilante asked the archer.

"I'm carrying out my mission," Oliver rasped back. "Don't interfere. I need to bring Fleming to justice."

Peter looked between the two vigilantes and shook his head. _First Faraday has a doppelganger, now the Cape?_ Well, that was an exaggeration, but there were some similarities between the two costumes, chief among them that both of the young men had hoods pulled up over their faces. On the other hand, if you were concerned about materials, the Hood evidently shared Chess' preference for leather rather than the Cape's for silk.

"Sorry, but I've got dibs on that. Leave him to me," Faraday demanded, the blue eyes behind the black mask gleaming.

"I can't do that," the Hood stated.

"Have it your way then," the Cape answered.

Next thing Peter knew, the others were locked in hand-to-hand combat. He saw the Cape use the Hood's bow against him—not by firing an arrow, but by trying to bludgeon him with it. The Hood managed to get in a few good punches for his part, but the Cape kicked his legs out from under him, and the emerald archer lost his balance on the wet ground. The Cape took advantage of this; dropping the bow, he lifted the Hood upside down…

Then he froze; he blinked, staring down at his opponent. He barely registered Fleming approaching them in his peripheral vision.

"Is that…?" Vince began.

"Oliver Queen?" Fleming was incredulous. Now that his namesake had fallen back, the Hood's features were easily discernible, leaving no question of his identity. He wore no mask over his face, merely some green greasepaint about his eyes. Perhaps, when wearing the hood, the paint underneath helped to accentuate shadows, but it was currently doing the young billionaire no favors.

Queen thrashed, trying to attack the Cape, succeeding only in getting dropped. He righted himself, facing the bewildered out-of-towners. He held his now recovered weapon at his side.

"Queen," Fleming repeated. "That explains why I've been attacked within thirty-six hours of coming to this city, but neither the Queens nor the Merlyns have had a visit from the infamous Hood."

"It's not like that," Oliver scowled. "I'm not playing favorites; I visit those who deserve it."

"Sure you do," the Cape rolled his eyes. It wasn't that he didn't think Peter had had it coming, but Vince wouldn't expect the friends and family of the Queen Consolidated heir to be amongst the man's victims. "What are you thinking, going around without wearing a mask? Did it never occur to you that hoods fall down?" 'You idiot' was implied.

In the beginning of his career as the Cape, Vince had made the same mistake (only he hadn't bothered with greasepaint.) But he'd wizened up and fashioned a mask out of an old leather pilot helmet in time to save his secret. When he thought about the night his hood had slipped off while Fleming held him underneath a runaway train, he was grateful he'd taken the precaution. He still remembered feeling the engineer's eyes roving his face and hair, as the madman tried to puzzle out who was underneath the mask.

Meanwhile, Queen was doing his own reminiscing about his time on the island and one of the lessons he'd been taught there.

"What occurred to me," Queen replied, "was that a mask doesn't hide your eyes. Once you've revealed those, you're finished."

The Cape swallowed nervously. Queen might not have recognized him, but Fleming had stared him down so many times… What if he did figure it out one of these days?

"Bet you're sorry you made fun of my contacts now," Fleming teased him, confusing Queen. Chess' contacts concealed his eyes alright, but the Cape considered the pupils shaped as chess pieces further proof of the man's mental illness.

"What contacts?" Oliver asked, showing the others he didn't know Chess' secret identity.

"You don't know," the Cape shook his head. "If you don't know, why were you trying to kill him?" Before he'd learned Fleming's secret, he'd thought he was a decent man. Hell, he'd been on the verge of working for him.

"I wasn't trying to kill him!" Queen protested. "The arrows were just to ensure his cooperation."

"Translation: He was going to assault me, threaten me, and commit extortion," Peter explained for his hero's benefit. "He doesn't kill royalty; he only slaughters pawns." He turned towards Oliver. "Your targets' bodyguards, thugs if you prefer, they're the disposable ones, correct?"

"Fuck you," Queen spat. "You read a few headlines and you think you know who I am? I am trying to save this city—"

The sound of police sirens approaching interrupted Queen's holier-than-thou spiel. The Cape took the opportunity to throw a smoke pellet. When the smoke cleared, he and Fleming were gone.

Oliver decided not to stick around to see where Starling City's finest were headed. He replaced the hood back over his face and went back to his hideout.

~VF~

Up in Fleming's hotel room, Vince released the older man's arm.

"Ever my hero," Peter purred.

"Ever the ungrateful jackass," the Cape snapped. "If Queen doesn't know who you are, why is he after you?"

"Perhaps I fit the profile of his victims," Fleming shrugged. "Worried about me?" he leered.

"In your dreams," the Cape approached the window, assessed the drop from that height, and decided not to push his luck for the evening. Using the cape and another smoke bomb to dramatize his exit, he headed for the stairs. As he headed for the lobby, he made a mental note to give Jamie a call. If anyone could find out what the Hood was up to, it was her.

~QL~

_Meanwhile:_

In a far less affluent part of the city, Quentin Lance stepped into the room where Adam Hunt had met his end. The former billionaire had been one of the Hood's first targets when the vigilante had made his debut appearance months ago. Tonight he'd been taken out with a single arrow, calling to mind a certain someone's M.O.

But it didn't fit. For starters, the arrow wasn't the right color. It was black instead of green. And the Hood's pattern was to back off after he got the funds from his victims, most of the guys he killed were ones that stood in between him and the ones he was really after. That meant only one thing.

Lance's report would state that they had a copycat on their hands. _Just perfect_. As if the original wasn't enough of a headache, there was now another person to track down. If, as the detective suspected, another archer had taken it into his mind to frame the Hood for additional murders, there were going to be more bodies cropping up with black arrows in them.

Everyone the Hood had ever confronted was now in danger.

**Author's Note: So as you can see, the fic is currently set in an AU of "Year's End," although it's not around the holidays in the story.**

**Thanks to Orwell, IronAmerica and rebelwilla for reviewing! And thanks to those who have added the story to their alert and/or favorites lists.**

**Chapter title is from Green Day's "21 Guns."**


	4. Chapter 4: Stop to Think About It

_Chapter Four: Stop to Think About It_

"I guess I should have knocked," Vince choked out the next day. Once again he had surprised Jamie by turning up at her office, but this time she wasn't alone. He had walked in on her kissing with Ian. For a moment, he supposed he should be grateful that they were both clothed, but then dismissed the thought. Surely they would exercise restraint in her office.

"Hey bro, long time, no see." Ian greeted him after pulling away from his girlfriend.

"Yeah, uh, it's good to see you again, Ian. You're looking—" _satisfied_, "—well," Vince replied.

"And yet you look like the notion of two people making out is foreign and—"

"You wanted to see me, Vince?" Jamie interjected, only her upbringing saving her cheeks from going scarlet.

"Yes, could we talk for a minute? It's about your father."

"The guy with the crush on you," Ian grinned. "What?" he continued, seeing the horrified look on his twin's face. "It's totally obvious."

"Can we have some privacy, _please_," Vince implored him.

"Your embarrassment is so adorable. Alright," he held up his hands. "Alright, I'm leaving. We can catch up later. But I want you to know, I'm hurt that you won't discuss your love life with your own brother." He closed the door behind him before the other blonde* could yell at him.

"First time I've seen him in years and no, 'hey, sorry to hear about your divorce!' Or 'hey, so glad you didn't die in an explosion,'" Vince grumbled.

"What's this about, Vince?" Jamie asked.

"Okay, firstly, I'm sorry I didn't call first," _very, very sorry._

"Apology accepted. What did Dad do this time?"

"He's fine now, but he was attacked last night by the 'Hood.'"

"And you're just telling me now?"

"I thought it might be best to tell you in person. Your father's fine," he repeated, since she looked worried. "I saved him, but this guy may try again."

"Do you have anything we could use to track him down?" Orwell asked, fury beginning to overpower her fear. "Did you get a good look at him?"

"Oh, I got a good look at him alright. He wasn't wearing a mask. It's Oliver Queen."

"Oliver Queen?" Jamie repeated. She stared at him, trying to digest the revelation.

"I know," he anticipated her next sentence, "he's too prominent. We can't move on him without evidence. Right now I want to know why he's after your father. Can you hack into Queen Consolidated's computers?"

"I'm on it," she said, barely letting her partner finish the question. She frowned at something that appeared on the screen. "Vince, did you see this? It says that the Hood killed Adam Hunt last night."

Vince approached the computer and read the article over her shoulder.

"That couldn't have been him. We were fighting Queen at the time Hunt died," Faraday pointed out.

"Well someone's gone to a lot of effort to frame Queen's alter ego," Jamie shivered. "If he doesn't stop there, if he's going to keep hunting Queen's victims—"

"Then Peter has another threat to watch out for," Vince grimaced. "See what you can find out."

~OQ~

Diggle found Oliver in the lair and turned on the news.

"You need to see this," he gestured towards the screen. The lead story was that the Hood had murdered Adam Hunt the night before.

"I thought the Hood was paying Fleming a visit last night," Diggle remarked as he turned off the volume.

"He did. That wasn't me," Oliver said quietly, indicating the recent death.

"I believe you. But it doesn't look that way to the rest of the city," John warned him.

"Just what I needed today," the billionaire grumbled.

"How did things go last night?" Diggle asked.

"Badly; there's another vigilante in town. He interfered. Fleming doesn't seem to be remotely intimidated by me—"

"Another vigilante," Diggle interrupted him. "Do you think this is the guy that's trying to frame you?"

"I doubt it," Queen shook his head. "He could no sooner be in two places at once than I could. Not that I think he'd back me up on the alibi," he sighed. "There's more. Whoever this guy is, he and Fleming know who I am."

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN?!" Diggle yelled.

"Apparently I should give the mask thing some more consideration, but what's done is done."

Diggle cursed. He looked towards the staircase leading up to what would soon be Oliver's nightclub, as if expecting Detective Lance to come barging down with a half dozen men, all with guns drawn.

"They don't know you're involved," the younger man continued calmly. "Even if they tried to turn me in, which they don't seem inclined to, I will do whatever is necessary to keep you out of this. You have my word."

"I still don't like this. They have the advantage over you. You didn't catch this guy's name?"

"For all I know, he's also known as the Hood," Oliver replied.

"He can't have that handle; it's taken," Diggle managed to smile.

"It's _lame_; I should pay him to take it from me," the blonde joked.

"What are you going to do now?" John asked, turning serious.

"I need help," he sighed. "I need to know more about all of this. I wish I could just talk to Lance. He's probably going to be investigating these other vigilantes anyway. Hell, I bet he's already been assigned to the Hunt case. If I could talk him into sharing his information with me…"

"Good luck with that," the bodyguard snorted. "Last time I checked, the only way you can have a conversation without you being arrested is if you've got him bent over the hood of his car."

Oliver wondered, idly, if he confided in Diggle a little too much.

"You've got a point… But what if we weren't talking face-to-face? What if he didn't have an opportunity to shoot at me?"

"What are you saying? The Hood is going to call Lance up on the phone for a chat?" the older man asked sarcastically.

"Actually, I think that's a good idea," Oliver smiled.

~QL~

"Detective Lance?" the messenger asked, standing by Quentin's desk with a non-descript package.

"That's me."

"Package for you; sign here, please."

Quentin did. The messenger took off right after handing him the small box. Curious, Lance opened it up and found a new cell phone. There was no note. He turned it on, and almost immediately it buzzed with an incoming call. The screen informed him that the caller's number was blocked and asked if he would accept or deny the call.

He should ignore it, he told himself. He had a pretty good idea of who would be on the other end of it, and had no desire to speak with him. Well, perhaps he would under the right circumstances—say, if the caller was behind bars. But he couldn't imagine that the call would be productive. It would probably just raise his blood pressure…and somehow he still found himself answering.

"Lance."

"_Don't try to trace this call_," the modulated voice began. Quentin frowned. It wasn't that the thought hadn't occurred to him, it was just that he'd already known a trace would be pointless. The Hood could afford the technology needed to cover his tracks.

"I'm hanging up now," Quentin answered.

"_Wait_," the Hood commanded._ "I assume_ _you've been assigned to the Hunt murder?"_

"Not that it's any of your business…"

"_It wasn't me_."

"Great. I'll just tell that to the superintendent when he asks. " In fact, he already had told him that the night before, but the man hadn't cared for his take on it.

"_If you can get me an arrow from the crime scene, I'll be able to track him down before he kills again_."

"You want me to give over evidence to a man I don't trust, whose motives I don't know? Gee, thanks, but I think I'll pass."

"_Call me when you've reconsidered. The number's programmed in; and Lance?"_

"What?"

"_There's another vigilante in town, too. We were starting to get acquainted at the time Hunt was being killed_."

"So your alibi is another person who won't show his face or give his name; how helpful."

"_I'm not telling you this because I need an alibi. I'm telling you because I don't know who he is or if I can trust him. I wanted to give you a heads-up on this._"

"And what do you expect in return?" Lance asked.

"_If you find out anything about him, let me know,_" the Hood finished, before cutting the connection.

Quentin groaned and resisted the urge to drop his head onto his desk. This time yesterday he only had to worry about one vigilante. Now he had to keep track of three.

He'd better get a damn promotion out of this.

~JF~

"Find anything yet?" Vince asked.

"Not yet," Jamie shot back. So far she couldn't find any files in Queen Consolidated's computers mentioning her father, or anything that would be related to the Hood… "What the hell?" she asked suddenly.

"What's wrong?"

"Somebody's blocking me! I just got locked out of their system!" she stared at the screen. No one was supposed to be able to stop Orwell.

"Can you get past them?" Vince inquired.

"Oh, I will," Orwell rolled up her sleeves. "Just watch me."

~MQ~

"…not impressed with this Hood guy. Stealing from the rich to give to the poor is the Democrats' job,"** Malcolm Merlyn, head of the Merlyn Group, spoke to a knot of party-goers at the Queen mansion.

"But you have to take this menace seriously when you consider all of the people he's murdered," one of them began.

Moira Queen approached the group.

"Malcolm, may I have a word?"

"Of course; if you'll excuse me," he said, extricating himself from the other guests so the two could speak in private.

"Walter knows too much," Moira blurted once they were alone. (Walter Steele, the current CEO of Queen Consolidated, was her second husband. They had married during Oliver's time on the island.) "He's asking too many questions and he," she clenched her fists, "after Hunt was killed yesterday he went to go warn another member of the list that he might be in danger—someone who has not been targeted by the vigilante before and who would have no reason to worry if not for the list."

"You said Robert's copy went down with the Queen's Gambit," Malcolm said.

"It did—it _must_ have. Oliver knows nothing about it," she insisted. Her son couldn't know anything about the list because when he had first returned to Starling City, she had had him kidnapped and interrogated to make sure he didn't know anything about the League's business. That done, she could assure her colleagues that there was no reason for Oliver to suffer the same fate his father had.

"And yet somehow Walter found a copy. Don't worry about it, Moira. I'll take care of this."

"What are you going to do?" she asked, worried. The last time Merlyn had taken care of something, Robert's boat went down. She didn't relish the idea of sacrificing another husband to the cause.

"I'm going to kidnap Walter and have him kept out of the way until our work in Starling is complete. And you're going to help me."

"I—"

"You're going to help me," Malcolm repeated, "because if you don't cooperate with me you're going to be a widow, again."

**Footnotes/Author's Note:**

***Physically, Vince and his twin are about as blonde as **_**Arrow**_**'s Oliver Queen, which is to say, barely. **

****Line borrowed from Year's End, of course.**

**It occurred to me that I should clarify the story's title. "Black Bird" does **_**not **_**refer to the Black Canary, whom Laurel will **_**not**_** be turning into during this fic (as I don't hate her father). Rather, Black Bird refers to Scales' nickname for the Cape. (My apologies to IronAmerica, but Scales will not be appearing in the story.)**

**Thanks to Orwell and IronAmerica for reviewing! And thanks to those of you who have added the story to your list of alerts/favorites!**

**Chapter title is from Three Days Grace's "I Hate Everything About You."**


	5. Chapter 5: A Warrior Queen

_Chapter Five: A Warrior Queen_

"You say you were assaulted by the Hood?" Quentin asked Peter Fleming. They were in the billionaire's hotel suite.

Lance tried to ignore the weight of a second phone in his pockets as he listened to the man's report. He noted that Fleming was, inadvertently, confirming the Hood had an alibi for Adam Hunt's murder.

Peter was just preoccupied with ranting against this "green menace" who had threatened to shoot him. He said nothing, however, about the emerald archer's secret identity. He didn't expect the police to bring him satisfaction. The legal system would simply pit his word against Queen's. No, this was just a formality; he was making a show of playing the aggrieved tourist.

He would settle things with Queen privately.

"And you didn't give into his demands?" Quentin interrupted the British expatriate.

"He didn't get around to making any," Fleming recalled.

"Is that so? How'd you escape?" Lance asked.

"My guardian angel swooped in," Peter drawled. The detective waited for him to elaborate. He did not.

"Mr. Fleming, you might not be in the habit of _giving_ reports to police officers, but let me remind you how this works. You dragged me from a murder investigation because you said you wanted to report an incident concerning the vigilante. Now are you going to quit wasting my time and start answering my questions?"

"The Cape interceded on my behalf," Fleming said, frowning in disapproval at the sergeant's disrespectful manner. None of his subordinates at ARK would dare talk to him that way. But he wasn't at ARK now and Lance didn't work for him—pity.

"The 'Cape,'" Quentin repeated. That must be the guy the Hood had been talking about. "Tell me more about him."

"You're not familiar with him? But then, he normally prowls around Palm City. Come to think of it, perhaps he followed me here. It would be so typical of him," Fleming smiled.

"Can you give me a description?" Quentin asked.

"Rather hard to miss someone that goes around in a mask, tights, and a spider-silk cape, though I suppose the getup is so dark that it does blend into the shadows. I'd say he's about my height; more or less my build; his eyes are a darker blue. He has this curly hair—wait. Do you mean to say you want to track down the man that _rescued_ me?" Fleming chuckled and shook his head. "Do yourself a favor; don't waste your time. I've had men more motivated," _and more skilled_, "than you try. He excels at escaping…

"And he's not the one that bloody threatened to kill me with a bow and arrow, so could you focus?"

~FS~

Felicity Smoak had rolled up her sleeves hours ago, after the assault against Queen Consolidated's system began. The blonde*, hunched in front of her computer in the I.T. Department, had been busy fending off the attack since she'd discovered it.

It irked her that the hacker had gotten inside their network in the first place. No, 'irked' might not be strong enough for this feeling; what was the word she was looking for?

…Anyway, her pride was on the line. No one should be hacking Queen's computers when Felicity was on the clock! She had promptly locked the marauder out of the system and had kept him out.

Not that it had been easy. Whoever was behind this was good, very good. And also very determined; this wasn't some idle kid with too much time on his hands and nothing better to do than cause mischief. This was professional work. Which begged the question: Who could want to get into Queen Consolidated's computers this badly? And what did they hope to find?

She should probably let Mr. Steele know about the digital attack, seeing as it was his company and his computers. He would want this investigated. And speaking of investigations, he might have found out more about that mysterious book he had brought her that had turned out to be written in invisible ink.

Her adversary had apparently run out of steam, at least for the time being. Felicity wouldn't be remotely surprised if the attacker was simply regrouping, preparing to come back again with renewed strength to hit harder than before. But there was a lull for now. The safeguards that Felicity had put up should hold long enough for her to pay a visit to the C.E.O.'s office.

Like her, Walter kept long hours. She was pretty sure she'd find him at his desk and that he'd make time to speak with her.

She was completely floored when she discovered that Walter wasn't simply not at his office; he was _missing_.

~JF~

"Vince, how could you let me fall asleep?!" Jamie all but shrieked.

"You were exhausted," Faraday replied. "You've been at it for hours. You need your rest."

"No, what I need is coffee," Orwell retorted. Like hell she was going to rest before finding out why Queen was after her father! He wasn't going to become another casualty.

"I'm back in!" she exclaimed triumphantly.

"Your adversary probably nodded off, too," Vince suggested.

"Their loss; my gain. Damn it!" she cursed.

"What?" Vince asked.

"I still can't find anything to do with Dad." Her fingers whirled over the keys, and then banged down in frustration. "Whatever Queen's hiding isn't in those computers."

"What did you expect, a computer file listing all of his targets?"

"Hey, there could've been one! Dad keeps computer files on _his_ targets. You know that; you've seen some of them."

"Maybe Oliver Queen isn't as arrogant as your father," Vince suggested, earning himself a glare.

~TM~

"Oliver, is everything okay?" Tommy Merlyn, Oliver's long-time best friend and the manager of his nightclub-to-be asked the following morning. Oliver had entered the former Glades warehouse with a stormy expression on his face.

"It's Walter," Queen replied. "We think he's been kidnapped."

"Oh my god! Are you sure?"

"No one's seen him since the party last night. None of his clothes were packed. Mom's called the police, but they're really strict about not opening a missing person's case until twenty-four hours have passed. Anything could happen to him in that time."

"Has there been a ransom demand?" Tommy asked.

"No," Oliver shook his head, "nothing so far." They had no clues to go on, no way of contacting the kidnappers to arrange an exchange. "Maybe it's not even about money," the blonde mused as he started pacing.

"Then what would it be?" the brunette asked.

"I really wish I knew," the billionaire sighed.

"He means a lot to you, doesn't he?"

"Walter's a good man." Oliver stopped pacing. "He was a good friend to my dad, to all of us. And he's family now. I can't lose any more family, Tommy. I have to find him."

Oliver looked so serious. There was something about the way he spoke and held himself that kept Tommy from asking him how he intended to do that or suggesting he leave things to the police.

Oliver had a way of convincing people that he could and would move mountains.

"I'll do anything I can to help," his friend promised.

"Thank you, Tommy. You're a good friend."

"Even though I stole your girlfriend?" Tommy raised an eyebrow.

"Well, for that, it's pistols at dawn," Oliver joked.

Tommy and Laurel's relationship had started getting serious after Oliver returned from the island. But Tommy feared that Oliver and Laurel still had chemistry together.

"All kidding aside," Oliver continued, "Laurel and I just weren't meant to be. Some part of me knew that when I boarded the _Queen's Gambit_," _rather than go apartment-hunting with Laurel_, he finished silently. "You know I'm happy for you."

~MQ~

_It's going to be alright_, Moira Queen kept repeating to herself. Malcolm had promised to bring Walter back safe and sound once the Undertaking was over.

Dear god, the Undertaking. After over five years, it was almost complete. Malcolm was going to level the Glades, the Starling City neighborhood where his wife had been murdered. It was horrifying to think about, all of the people that would be killed, but what could she do? Malcolm had already murdered Robert; he wouldn't hesitate to systematically kill the rest of her family if she didn't play along. If that meant sacrificing the Glades…

She clenched her fist and tried not to think about it. It was out of her control.

~QL~

"Would you excuse me, Tommy? I have to take this," Oliver said, as his phone buzzed.

"Sure," Tommy nodded. Oliver headed downstairs, as he answered Lance's call.

"Are you ready to help me, Detective?"

"_There was another murder last night_," Quentin replied. "_Same M.O. as Hunt's; taken out with black arrows. You know how Hunt was the first guy you tangoed with? Guess who this victim was._

_ "Someone is systematically going after the people you haven't killed."_

"At least you don't think it's me," Oliver replied.

"_Your story checked out. Although you left out a few details—like the fact that you were too busy shaking down Peter Fleming to have killed Hunt. Fleming's filed a complaint against you, by the way. We'll have to add it to the charges."_

"Fleming's—" Oliver swallowed. Fleming knew who he was. And he was talking to the police; crap. "What exactly did Fleming tell you about me?"

_"Nothing I didn't already know. Why, is he holding out on me? I'll be honest; I'm not very fond of this guy. I wouldn't mind seeing him up for obstruction of justice._

_ "You know what I would mind? Seeing him wind up dead because of you. Because it's not enough that you've left a trail of bodies in _your _wake_—"

"Detective, don't exaggerate. I only kill when the situation calls for it."

"_Oh, yeah? Do you know how many people you've killed? Because I do—_"

No, Oliver thought, Lance didn't know. He didn't know that Oliver had killed on the island, too.

"_Eleven so far in the less than three months since you came to Starling City. Don't tell me the situation calls for it each time. You know when a situation calls for deadly force? When you're __**faced**__ with deadly force; when it's the only way to save—"_

"If you only called to lecture me, I'm hanging up."

"_Damn it! I called because I want this copycat caught before he kills again. There's a chute that faces the alley along…_"

~OQ~

An hour and a quarter later, Oliver strolled into Felicity Smoak's office in I.T. with a black arrow in tow. He started rattling off some ridiculous story about wanting to surprise a friend with custom made arrows before he took in her appearance.

"Felicity, what's wrong?" Oliver demanded.

"'What's wrong?'" she repeated, blinking. "Walter's missing!" Surely as Walter's stepson, Oliver should've known that already. "That's pretty majorly wrong. Not to mention that our network was compromised yesterday; I held off the hacker for as long as I could, but then when I went to Walter's office to let him know about the attack—I was only away from I.T. for ten minutes or so, which shouldn't have been nearly enough time to breach our security, but apparently it was—"

"Felicity, take a breath," Oliver instructed the bespectacled young woman. "Now slow down and try again."

"We were hacked yesterday. I don't know if it has anything to do with Walter's disappearance or if the timing was a coincidence."

"Were you able to trace the attack?" Oliver asked.

Felicity nodded.

"It took me awhile, the signal was routed through so many…and you don't care about the details, right. The attack originated from ARK Corporation."

"ARK, that's the Flemings' company, isn't it?"

"That's right," Felicity confirmed.

Oliver's mind raced. Fleming was clearly pissed about the Hood's visit. Was he pissed enough to kidnap Walter in retaliation?

"Should I tell the police about this?" she inquired.

"No, I mean not yet, anyway. Even if the events are connected, Missing Persons still won't listen to us before tonight," he replied.

"Of course; oh, what was it you wanted to see me about? Was there another computer accident at your favorite café**?"

Oliver recalled the arrow he was carrying.

"No, I'm here because I was hoping you could track down where this was made," he said, holding the evidence out to her. "A friend's birthday is coming up and he's very particular about what arrows he uses."

**Footnotes:**

***Bottle blonde, really; but we've already stretched the term blonde, so who cares?**

****To those who aren't fans of **_**Arrow**_**, Felicity is referring to the time Oliver presented her with a laptop sporting a few bullet holes, yet claimed it was malfunctioning because he'd spilled coffee on it. When prompted, he explained the bullet holes were there because the café he frequents "is in a bad neighborhood."**

**Author's Note: Chapter title from Lady Gaga's "Marry the Night."**

**Thanks to those who have added the story to your list of alerts and/or favorites! And thanks to Orwell, IronAmerica, and zomgonozdinosaurs for reviewing! **

**Because some readers may share concerns with zomgonozdinosaurs, I'm going to try to briefly address them here: By all means, let's say Moira acted under duress. This does not change the fact that she was in on the kidnapping conspiracy as well as the Undertaking.**

**As for whether the Cape could take the Hood in a fight, well, would anyone who knows Vince as Father Jackal say that he's not badass? (The Jackals are property of IronAmerica; please see IA's work for clarification.) But more importantly, what is truly implausible is the gravity-defying!hood that is supposed to have protected Oliver's secret for as long as it did.**

**By show of reviews, did anyone see that coming in the season finale?**


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